


Mamihlapinatapai and this thing they have

by cian1675



Category: Block B
Genre: Angst, M/M, idolverse, pining of sorts, stalemate - Freeform, the tales runner CF and the SNL kiss are referenced to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:50:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9801392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cian1675/pseuds/cian1675
Summary: MamihlapinatapaiNoun. A look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin.He has never had a word to describe the look that passes between them whenever this happens, but now Kyung does.





	

**Mamihlapinatapai**  
_Noun._ A look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin. It is that look across the table when two people are sharing an unspoken but private moment. When each knows the other understands and is in agreement with what is being expressed. An expressive and meaningful silence.

 

***

 

Mamihlapinatapi. He has never had a word to describe the look that passes between them whenever this happens, but now Kyung does. He’s seated across the table from Jiho and his current girlfriend, just politely eating instead of spending any real effort into making conversation. It’s not like he’ll get anything out of a conversation with Jiho here and Kyung’s not particularly interested in Jiho’s new girlfriend. He has nothing against her; she’s probably a nice person, probably caring and understanding, because who else would be able to stand Jiho’s obsessive workaholic behaviour? It’s either that or Jiho’s actually crazy enough about this girl to cut time off work for her, which is a possibility that Kyung doesn’t really want to entertain. So he sticks to stuffing his face full of rice and meat, ignoring the _look_ Jiho gives him every once in a while, remembering to at least reply the girl when she takes the initiative to ask him questions.

 

 

“That was rude,” Jiho says. It’s the first thing he says to Kyung after the dinner’s ended. It’s over the phone, but Kyung doesn’t need to see Jiho to know that he’s probably frowning, eyes stern and mouth hard. He balances his phone between his ear and shoulder, sighing as he sits down on his bed. Folding laundry would have to wait.

Unlike the looks that frequently pass between them, whether they’re in studio practising, recording, outside for performances or on stage for concerts, Kyung doesn’t quite have a name for this thing they have. This thing they are. Best friends is something they were in maybe late primary school, early middle school, acquaintance is too far removed for how close they have to be when working in Block B, group mate is too business-like for how they hang out outside of group activities, and fuck buddies implies that they actually have sex more than that one time they gave each other sloppy handjobs when they were both too drunk. _Ssome_ is probably the closest word Kyung can think of to describe this, but it’s usually used for people who are almost dating but not quite – not exactly what he is with Jiho – and besides, it doesn’t quite capture the level of stalemate they’re at. So Kyung still doesn’t know what they are exactly; doesn’t have a word to describe whatever is between them.

He does, however, know enough about the contours of this _thing_ to know how Jiho’s going to react when he says what he’s going to say next, but it doesn’t stop him from doing it anyway.

“Rude is asking me to have dinner with you and your new girlfriend.”

Jiho makes that little sound of exasperation like Kyung expected he would, before he replies tiredly, “Is it so wrong of me to want two of the important people in my life to meet each other, maybe get to be friends?”

It’s not wrong, Kyung thinks, but he’s sick of this, this thing where they exchange mamihlapinatapai across the table, looks imbued with meaning and things unspoken, but never actually talking about anything because they’re both too chicken to. So he chooses the easiest way out.

“I didn’t know I was important to you.”

Kyung hears the long sigh Jiho gives on the other side of the phone. There’s a long pause during which Kyung has to check if Jiho accidentally hung up, but eventually Jiho mumbles, “Never mind. Forget I said anything.” If he was holding his breath waiting for Jiho to say something else, Kyung’s the only one to know. After all, he’s only being an idiot if he’s still hoping for anything at this point when it has long been established that they’re both cowards, or this _thing_ wouldn’t have gone on as what it is for so long.

 

 

It wasn’t always like this. There didn’t used to be so much tension in the air whenever they are alone, Kyung thinks. It’s just the two of them right now, in front of the cameras, waiting for the director’s instructions for a CF filming. It’s part of a teaser, showing Kyung and Jiho in what might be the beginnings of a fight. Waiting for the cue to start shooting, Kyung exchanges basic conversation with Jiho, things like _Your makeup needs to be touched up_ or _How do you want to do those poses they want?,_ but underneath all these work talk, he’s aware of Jiho looking at him when he’s not looking, the stare from Jiho’s piercing eyes an itch on his back whenever he turns. Kyung ignores it, pushes it down like he’s always done, and avoids Jiho’s eyes. It’s only when the shooting starts and the director calls for Kyung and Jiho to look at each other does Kyung finally bring his face up to meet Jiho’s eyes.

“Stare at each other like you want to fight, and you can even push each other a little,” the director instructs, motioning for the cameras to roll.

Kyung nods, moving to position in front of Jiho. They briefly glare at each other, before Jiho lunges forward, grabbing fistfuls of Kyung’s shirt. He was expecting the movement, but then Jiho’s suddenly coming too close to his face, still moving from the momentum of his earlier steps, and Kyung’s arms come up to hold Jiho’s chest away from him. He doesn’t expect that to stop Jiho so suddenly that he accidentally pulls Kyung towards him instead, and their faces almost come into contact before Jiho quickly loosens his grip on Kyung’s shirt.

“Cut! Again!”

The second try doesn’t go any better than the first, Jiho taking two steps towards Kyung with his body leaning forward, neck sticking out in a bid to be intimidating but really just bringing his face uncomfortably close to Kyung’s. He can feel the warm air from Jiho’s exhales, and Kyung quickly braces himself to push Jiho, hoping to get a good take so he won’t have to keep repeating this.

“Again! Stare at each other, fight with your eyes first before you push this time.”

Rotating his neck for something to do more than to get any cricks out, Kyung mentally prepares himself for the staring contest he’ll have to do with Jiho, trying to keep his mind blank of anything but wanting to stare Jiho down. When the director calls them to start, Kyung meets Jiho’s eyes with an equally strong glare of his own, his feet moving forward unconsciously in a bid to match up to Jiho’s taunting steps towards him. Kyung has a moment to think, _I’m not going to back out of this staring contest_ _first_ , before Jiho’s face is suddenly in his, and their foreheads touch for a moment.

Jiho’s eyes narrow, and Kyung feels the urge to look away rise in him, but he pushes that thought down. He’ll not back down this time. He’s meeting Jiho gaze for gaze, and Kyung thinks maybe Jiho’s going to be one to back down this time. He’s not even sure why he’s so intently focused on this staring match until Jiho suddenly pushes him, enough force used that Kyung stumbles a little backwards.

“Push Jiho back,” the director yells off-camera, and Kyung quickly leans in, picks up speed as he throws his body weight against Jiho.

“Cut! That was good!”

Kyung thinks that’s the end of that, that he can get out of this place and the close proximity to Jiho, but the director shouts again.

“Now a close up! Grab each other’s collars hard and stare like you want to fight.”

Kyung holds back his protest, gritting his teeth so he won’t seem like he’s being difficult. He can do this. It’s just another take, he can survive this. So Kyung gets ready to pull at Jiho’s collar. When the cameras start rolling again, he brings his hands up with the single-minded goal of grabbing Jiho. He looks up, ready to glare, but Jiho’s hands come up to his face instead of his chest. And instead of the collar grab they’re supposed to do, Jiho places his hands gently on Kyung’s cheeks.

_What the fuck._

Kyung would say something if he still has air in his lungs, but he’s too stunned to do anything but watch Jiho lean in again.

“Cut! Jiho, you’re supposed to fight him, not baby him.”

 _Baby._ Right. _That’s what this is, sure._

Kyung scoffs the moment Jiho takes his hands off, and Jiho shrugs like it’s a joke. With a wide smile on his face, Jiho casually explains to the director that he’s just making the behind the scenes more fun, which the crew takes as it is. But Kyung doesn’t miss the little shift in Jiho’s eyes when he turns around. He doesn’t miss the strange look in Jiho’s eyes when he peeks at Kyung before immediately averting his eyes again like _he_ hadn’t been the one to make things weird.

Kyung takes a deep breath. Puts on a smile like he thinks it’s funny too, even though the crew isn’t really laughing either. He wonders how long more he can do this.

 

 

Sometimes they behave like nothing’s wrong. Kyung lets Jiho sling an arm around his shoulder at a fanmeet, casually smiling and waving to the fans. On a different day, Jiho gives a decent, non-snippy response to Kyung’s question of, _did you manage to eat your meals properly while producing?_ Days like those, everything’s good. Everyone’s in a good mood. There’re no undercurrents that Kyung can’t read, words left unsaid or looks exchanged when either thinks the other isn’t looking.

But then there’s also days when nothing’s right and everything’s wrong, and Kyung can barely stand to be in the same room as Jiho. It’s not anger, though it’ll be easier if it is, because maybe then they can just fight it out the way they did when they were younger. This not-anger thing though, it burns like anger would under his skin, with just a tinge of something _else_ underneath, something bitter, and Kyung tries to remain where he’s standing, remain firm in his earlier assertion.

“But Kyung,” Jiho says in an almost-whine, using what Kyung thinks is his leader-voice, “You _agreed_ to act this role two months ago –”

“And right _now_ I’m telling you, I can’t do it –”

“Dude, what the fuck?” Jiho mumbles, exasperated enough to curse but still aware enough in his role as Block B’s leader to try to be reasonable. “Please at least tell me why you can’t do it suddenly –”

Kyung exhales, a long tired thin sound passing between his tense lips. “Does it even matter _why_? Can’t you just ask someone else to play my role? Maybe Taeil hyung would do it. He doesn’t mind kissing –”

“Is that what this is about? Kissing?” Jiho stares at him, eyes narrowed, and Kyung’s glad his mind goes blank because otherwise his face would have twitched and given him away.

“Sheesh, Jiho, it’s not about that. It’s just fucking _weird_ okay!”

Jiho raises an eyebrow. “You saw the script before you agreed. You could have said something _then_.”

Kyung doesn’t say anything, and Jiho scrubs a hand down his face, tired, before he adds, “There’s no part of this skit that isn’t _weird_ , it’s SNL, for goodness sake, ready to make us poke fun of ourselves. I get that, I think the script is weird too, but we did agree to do it, so can you please act like a reasonable person and not tell me you’re suddenly unable to act your part on the day before, wait no, the _early morning_ , of the filming?”

With his crossed arms and raised brow, Jiho would make most people uncomfortable but Kyung has had too many years to get used to this, and he just sighs at the reasonable argument. “Fuck it. Forget I said anything. I’ll play the damn role.”

Jiho gives him another look, like he’s trying to figure Kyung out – good luck with that, Kyung thinks, because _he_ hasn’t figured himself out – and he looks like he wants to say a lot of things, but what Jiho eventually says is, “Why did you come into my studio at two in the morning to tell me you don’t want to act in the skit, even insist on _not_ doing it for half an hour, only to suddenly give up and tell me you’re just going to do it?”

It’s a very good question, and Kyung would be damned if he tells Jiho the real answer. Instead he gives a dismissive wave.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tired from writing songs in the studio,” Kyung mumbles as he leaves, tasting the lie on his lips.

 

 

They are on the set for SNL filming later that day, Kyung getting his nose powdered as if his skin isn’t already thick with makeup. A little off to the side, Jiho’s chatting with the staff and members, saying something that makes them all laugh. It’s almost as if last night (or very early this morning) didn’t happen. Jiho’s always been good at that. Pretending. Kyung can do this too. He puts on his idol face, smiles at the makeup noona and shoots her a wink. He can do this. After all, it’s just one scene out of many.

Except, when the first scene starts, he’s trying too hard, because the director yells cut almost immediately.

“Kyung, don’t bounce so much when you walk in. You’re supposed to be a little sad, melancholic. Try to subdue a little of your grease, will you?”

Kyung tries not to roll his eyes. If only they knew how much of his idol persona is for show. He nods, then walks back out the door to start the scene again.

 

 

A few takes later, the director says there isn’t enough time, and they need to move on to the next scene. Kyung’s half-glad. There’s only so many times he can walk into the room, pull the (completely empty) soju bottle out of Jiho’s hand and pretend to drink it before he wants to run away. But he’s also half-worried, because they’re closer to the scene he dreads. As if this whole sequence of Park Kyung finding Woo Jiho in the dance studio (pfft, as if Jiho would be drinking in a _dance_ studio instead of his _music_ studio if he ever wants to drink) isn’t already something pretty terrible in itself. Kyung tries to file that away, compartmentalise the Park Kyung he’s playing from the Park Kyung he is, remove the Woo Jiho whom he is about to say cheesy lovesick lines to from the Woo Jiho he has known since elementary school. Kyung closes his eyes. When he opens them, he tries not to see Jiho as just Jiho, but another person.

“Don’t get drunk. If you do… then I can’t hold back anymore.”

Kyung’s glad his voice sounds tense. It fits the role he’s playing, even if they don’t care how terrible their acting is on SNL. Jiho looks at him, blinking slowly, expression unreadable, and Kyung tries not to focus on that. He puts his mind on licking his lips, like he wants to …

“Cut, Jiho’s smile shows on camera.”

Kyung blinks, and then laughs on reflex, because everyone else is laughing, Jiho included. Or maybe it’s laughter from embarrassment. There’s only so long he can stare at Jiho’s lips and pretend he wants to kiss him. Jiho, who’s someone he had known from when they were both embarrassing kids, and someone he works with in a group. Jiho, who he knows a lot about, but also nearly nothing particularly significant regarding. Jiho whom he finds staring at him all the time, only marginally more times than Kyung has found himself staring back. Jiho, who has a girlfriend.

_Jiho._

Kyung laughs along with the crew who’s making fun of the scene they have to do, even though laughter is the furthest thing from his mind. Jiho doesn’t seem to be affected, and Kyung files that away as he gets ready for another retake.

 

 

When the scene he’s been dreading comes, Kyung’s surprisingly unfazed. Maybe he’s resigned himself to it, or maybe his brain has reached a point where he can’t freak out any further without breaking down. Whatever the case is, when the camera rolls, Kyung finds his arm reaching towards Jiho’s neck and the movement is familiar, even if Jiho’s much taller than the girls he used to date pre-debut. Jiho leans in just slightly, Kyung mirroring his movement, eyes focused on Jiho’s lips and nothing else, because if he registers that this is _Jiho_ he’s about to kiss, Jiho whom he exchanges mamihlapinatapai with and whom he’s in a thing-he-can’t-name with, Kyung doesn’t know what he might do.

(Run from the shooting set, maybe.)

Their lips touch. They hold it there for a while and Kyung tries not to move. The director yells cut.

“We didn’t get the kiss on camera properly, you’ll have to do it again.”

Jiho steps back immediately, shouting in protest. Kyung finds himself unknowingly doing the same.

“Aishh, why?”

The director chuckles, probably amused.

“Do it properly this time and I won’t make you shoot it again, come on.”

When Kyung kisses Jiho for the second time, his arm still feels awkward, resting at a higher angle than it normally would on the other person’s shoulder, and Jiho’s lips are still too sticky with gloss and whatever lip product their makeup artists have slathered on him. The whole thing is as awkward as it can be, bright lights shining on the two of them, makeup still thick on their faces, and a dozen or so people watching them intently. It shouldn’t be anything but work, and awkward acting work at that, but Kyung’s chest feels funny all the same. He doesn’t know why. Or maybe he does, but having chosen to ignore _this_ – whatever this is – for so long, Kyung can’t quite figure out how to stop pretending.

As their lips part from each other’s, Kyung opens his eyes a little. He hadn’t even realised he had closed them, but maybe kissing is kissing, regardless of who he’s locking lips with. He pulls back a little, eyes fully open now, and he catches Jiho’s gaze, eyes half lidded, dark and incomprehensible. It’s the look he always gives Kyung when he thinks he’s not looking, the one he always gives and then quickly turns away pretending he hadn’t. Except this time Jiho’s actually still looking at him instead of turning away even though Kyung’s caught him looking. Kyung’s not even sure when Jiho’s eyes were open. Had he even closed them? He wouldn’t know, not when his eyes had closed early on during the kiss-not-kiss out of habit.

“And cut!” the director shouts, snapping Kyung from his daze. With that, Kyung quickly looks away – looks away from Jiho’s gaze before he gets sucked deeper in.

“Alright, we’re done,” the director says casually, motioning for the crew to move on. But Kyung can’t help but hear something more in those words.

_We’re done._

Maybe he should have let this thing die ages ago.  Maybe the two of them should have stopped playing this incomprehensible game long ago. Maybe they should have done that back when it first started, but Kyung thinks maybe the next best thing is to start now.

Kyung turns his back on Jiho, plastering on a smile. “So, what’s next?”

He doesn’t think Jiho catches the double meaning of what he’s saying, but Kyung hears it. Hears it as loudly and as clearly as the thought that someone should have stopped Kyung and Jiho from exchanging mamihlapinatapai with each other, stopped them from murking up this thing they have between them long before. And maybe Jiho’s still too chicken to do it, but Kyung isn’t.

“I’m so glad this is over, what’s the next part?” Kyung says again, putting in effort to sound cheery even though he knows it’s a lie.

(It’s all a lie, his tone, the words he said, and what he was thinking to himself. He can’t stop. Kyung can’t. It’s why they’re in this mess to begin with.)

Jiho spins him around and gives him a _look_.

**Author's Note:**

> The Tales Runner CF: [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ldr9NVvfUwM&t=137s) (the zikyung moment is toward the later half of the video)  
> The SNL kiss: [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NacQL_NYy80&t=100s).
> 
> This story is obviously fictional, lol, even if it's sort of based off those videos.
> 
> Anyway, I originally started this when I first learnt of the word Mamihlapinatapai, which was back in September 2016, but writing it on and off over the last few months, I kind of just wanted to finish this oneshot and get it out of the way. I kept the ending open because I don't think this is something they'll solve any time soon or easily because both of them are chicken idiots who don't talk to each other, but yeah. Let me know what you think :)


End file.
